To Stay the Passing of Time
by Oukashou
Summary: Akari is in the midst of her second year of high school, when, suddenly, she falls ill and fails to attend class. Sensing that something is wrong, and that she may be in trouble, one of her close friends comes to visit her at her home. She will reveal to him a conflict that has affected her for a very long time. She will reveal to him, her memories of Takaki. One-shot.


**TO STAY THE PASSING OF TIME**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Precious though life is, it is beyond our power to stay the passing of time." - Yamanoue no Okura<strong>

* * *

><p>I woke up and rubbed at my nose as I heard people talking just outside my room. I wondered how long I had been asleep, noticing the sunset's orange bleeding through the curtain covering my window.<p>

"Ah, well, it's just very unusual for her to ever miss a day of school, so everybody in class was egging me on to go and check on her. Besides, I have printouts from Toriyama-sensei that she needs, anyway."

"I understand, but Akari's been very down, too, not just sick. I can tell how sad she is right now, but she wouldn't say anything to me. She never gets this quiet or dejected, usually. I'd figured it would be for the best were we to just leave her alone. "

"Please have some faith in me, Shinohara-san. I think I know what's wrong with her. Leave it to me."

"Oh, you've always been so helpful and so kind to us ever since we moved here. Alright, I suppose. She's in your care."

Just then, mother knocked on my door with two slight taps. She opened it, slowly, and poked her head into my room.

"Akari, you have a visitor. It's your friend, he has some important papers for you from school."

I puffed up my pillow, swiped my hair away from my face, and nodded. I wondered if I was able to hide my nervousness. "Mm."

Mother backed away, and he walked in. I noticed a rolled-up pile of school papers in one of his hands. He greeted me with the warmest smile, and the most gleeful bright eyes shone through the lens of his glasses.

"Hey, Akari. You're looking well today."

I giggled a bit and covered up my chest with my blanket.

"That's a big lie, isn't it?"

He tilted his head to the side in an exaggerated arc. "Well, I don't like to judge."

He turned back to face out my door, at mother. He bowed deeply. "Thank you, Shinohara-san. I won't be long."

"Please, come and have a drink or some cake after you've finished," mother said as she closed the door and walked off, leaving us alone. He looked at the door for a second before turning back to me.

With that, he clapped his hands together and smirked. "What is it with you lately, hm? Akari? Skipping school like a delinquent?"

"I'm not skipping school. I really am sick, you dummy. Very sick, actually."

"Sure, sure," he said, dismissing me with a wave as he went over and pulled the chair from my desk. He came up to the side of my bed and set it down. He took a seat and gently placed his hand on my forehead. Startled, I squirmed in my covers and got a little bothered. I might have squealed a bit.

"H-Hey…! What are you-"

"Wah, you really are sick. Burning up."

"I told you," I began to say before noticing him looking at my nightstand. He nodded as if he had confirmed some kind of great suspicion he'd been hoarding inside himself.

"These are the things you told me about, aren't they?"

He dropped the pile of school papers on one side of the nightstand and picked up the stack of letters from atop the other. He started to scan over them. I got all flustered.

"Hey, those letters are private, you know. You can't just pore over them," I said, raising my raspy and dried-out voice as high as it would go. "Please don't-"

"So these are the letters," he interrupted. It sounded like he was saying that to himself as much as he was to me.

"Mm… Yes."

Yes. Those were the letters. The letters from the past. From long ago. From before I moved so very far away. The records of my time with that boy, the sheets of paper that housed all of my precious, fleeting memories of him. Him, the boy I used to know, back when we were just two little kids.

They were all the letters from Takaki.

"So, this here is his handwriting. The handwriting of the guy you've told me so, so much about. Takaki Tohno, you said his name was."

I felt myself blushing very noticeably. "Yes... Those are all his words."

"I see."

He went on looking at the letters. I couldn't summon the strength to stop him. I did turn to him, though, when I noticed a sudden stillness in the air.

He had stopped thumbing through the sheets of stationery. He put his finger under the heading of one of the pages. He was reading the date. "Uh-huh," he muttered, satisfied under his breath. "I'd had thought it would've been something like this."

He set the letters down on his lap and stared right into my eyes. My cheeks reddened even more.

"The very last one you received was written five years ago today, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice stark and stern.

I could only turn away from him and tighten my blanket around me..

"I know what he was to you. I know why you're so sick."

I didn't respond.

"Getting a fever like this, making everyone worry. Just because you're sad. It's not even anything physical, or a disease. I hadn't thought that could actually happen."

"Don't… Don't make fun of me," I whispered out. My voice was getting weaker and weaker.

"I'm not making fun of you. And I never would."

The roof of my mouth dried up. I felt my eyelids get very, very heavy.

"Akari."

"...What?" I said, sounding so meek and pathetic.

"Just because you can't be alone doesn't mean you're not strong."

I started sniffling. Thin tears began streaming out of my eyes, staining my pillow.

"Akari."

My sniffling and my swallowing got louder. Even if I was faced away from him, he knew I was crying.

"Akari."

I turned to face him and cried, letting the tears keep on running down. He took one of my hands in both of his and put his face close to mine.

"I'm here," he said.

I shoved my covers off and threw myself as hard as I could into his chest and wept.

Soaking his shirt in my tears, I dug my fingers into his flesh. I whined and wept and shook. I let everything go. I felt so horrible. I let it all burst out of me. It was loud and pathetic.

He sat there and held me like that, for God knows how long, all the way until I stopped crying.

And when the tears finally stopped steaming out, he wiped off my hot, red cheeks for me and ran his hand through my hair.

"I'm not him, aren't I?" he asked, as he gently placed my head down on my pillow. He allowed me to breathe, slowly, as he gently rolled my blanket over me and tucked me in. He had a warm, loving look in his eyes, and a faint hint of a smirk on his lips. I stared at him for a while, and then turned my head to the side of my bed.

"No," I said, as I burrowed my face into my pillow and closed my eyes. My voice came out muffled and meek.

"But you're here."

I heard him stand up and stay still for a bit, thinking about that, and then click the lamp on my nightstand off and straighten himself up. I think the sun had set while I had been crying.

"Well, I certainly hope that's good enough for you," he said, plainly but in his caring, understanding kind of way. He always knew exactly how to say things.

He walked towards the door, opened it, and put a foot into the hallway.

"It is," I said. I tried to be a little louder.

He stopped again. I heard the grip of his fingers pull hard against the doorknob, and I could have sworn his breathing got just the slightest amount deeper.

"It's good enough for me too."

He snickered a bit.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Akari."

I smiled the truest, warmest smile I had smiled in a very long time.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked away, closing the door behind him.

I heard the sound of the insects in the grass outside coming out to dance and feed, the evening breeze blowing past my open window. Voices as distant as stars and as soft as velvet intermingled on the darkened asphalt of all the streets and paths outdoors.

I smelled the scent of fresh garden tomatoes growing and new flowers sprouting, releasing air and oxygen and amazing new life into the distant, purple-gold sky.

Time passed on, reaching out to every person and every thing with feelings, and temptations, and memories. Between people, there were thoughts, poems, greetings, farewells, and unspoken promises, and good will wrapped around the brightest and warmest wishes.

I wasn't crying anymore.


End file.
